


All of the Joys in a Picinic Basket

by bunny500



Series: Crack-fics Galore [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The Yogi Bear Show (Cartoon)
Genre: A very unfortunate cherry pie, Bestiality, Crack, Crack Relationships, M/M, PWP, Sort Of, a husband to bears indeed, misuse of cherry pie filling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunny500/pseuds/bunny500
Summary: Yogi Bear gets lucky when he finds a moist cherry pie in a picinic basket. Little does he know, the husband to bears is lying in wait.
Relationships: Yogi Bear/Tormund Giantsbane
Series: Crack-fics Galore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599181





	1. Chapter 1

Yogi finally got it. He finally got the basket. It was sitting there on the bench, tantalizing him. His mouth already watered in anticipation. From feet away, he could feel the heat from its wicker body. He imagined the moistness of a pecan pie against his tongue, so sweet, it's crust flaky and warm. He thought of honeyed ham, buttery and bursting with flavor. He thought of the rare treat he’d found on occasion- a bottle of whiskey or bourbon, perhaps a sip of Woodford's reserve. Finally, he could not resist the call of curiosity any longer. He flipped open the lid. Inside it was a perfectly shaped, golden brown cherry pie. It was beautiful. The red filling gleamed from beneath the lattice covering the top of the pastry. He got erect just looking at it. He took a single lick against the seductive surface of the pie. It was delicious. Yogi was the hardest he’d ever been. He was ready. The pie needed his cream, it needed what only he could give it. The perfect filling to make it right. He scooped the top from it and put it into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. He needed to make room, after all. He chewed, then finally swallowed the morsel he’d taken. 

Then he took the final plunge. He put his cock in the gooey embrace of cherry filling. The heat perfectly enveloped and surrounded his member, embracing him into a bliss that he had never known before. He passionately thrust into it’s soft, sticky grasp. Again and again, he humped the pie, heat building in his pelvis, his gut, his whole body aching with the delight of it, with the freedom he felt at the new sensation. He lost himself in the sensations, forgetting his surroundings. Then there was a sudden rustle from behind. At first, he ignored it, deciding it was the wind passing him by, but then he heard it, a gasp, then a moan. He turned his head, eyes wide, heart pounding as the fear hit him. What was he going to tell BooBoo? What excuse could he possibly make for this? But it wasn't him. It was a man. A tall man, with glorious red hair in a halo around his gorgeous face, all the better for the masculine beard that framed it. Yogi slowed his thrusts, terrified that he was going to be reported to the park ranger again for his habits. The man's eyes glittered, warmth spreading across his cheeks as he smiled. "Don't stop," he whispered. A burst of heat welled up in his belly. He knew this man- had heard of him all his life. This was Tormund, the husband to bears. He was known far and wide for his exploits, for his skill in the sexual arts, most especially to bears. Yogi moaned helplessly and went back to fucking the pie with renewed vigor. He'd been dreaming of this, dreaming of Tormund, since he'd become old enough to hear the stories. 

He slid behind the bear. Yogi could feel his warmth as he leaned to envelop the bear with his arms. A soft, furless hand reached for the pie, ignoring the furious thrusts of Yogi’s hips. With two fingers, he scooped out some of the pies filling. Then he reached behind. Far behind. Yogi could barely resist a yelp as he felt the first finger slide into his opening, coated liberally in the cherry concoction. But soon he adjusted to the feeling, even finding it pleasing as it wriggled around in his insides. Another finger soon joined it, playfully reaching inside of him, stretching him and touching something deep inside that forced a sound from his muzzle. He heard a deep chuckle that rumbled from the man’s chest through to Yogi’s back.  
“Is this your first time?” Yogi moaned in answer, brain too scrambled from all the sensation for him to put together a coherent reply. It took Tormund some time to prepare his hole, but finally Yogi felt something much larger than a finger pressing against him. Tormund thrust into him, opening him up around his erect member. Yogi felt overwhelmed with the heat inside of him and the heat enveloping his cock. It was perfection. 

Neither he nor Tormund lasted long, and soon both Yogi and the pie had their fair share of filling.

\------------

Much later, when Tormund and Yogi were too tired to make another round of lovemaking, they lay on the cool forest floor, basking in their shared afterglow. The woods rustled and this time, Yogi heard the approaching footsteps. He quickly pulled the pie tin over his lap, protecting what little of his decency he could. Tormund didn’t bother.

This time it was Boo Boo. Yogi stared at him in mute shock, too tired to get up or make protestations. He simply lay there, frozen. BooBoo looked at the desecrated pie. He looked at Yogi. Then his eyes drifted to Tormund, laid out lazily beside him. “Father?”


	2. Chapter 2

It had been 2 years since the pie incident. Because Tormund was gone and it was technically Yogi who’d popped the pie’s cherry, he felt guilty for dishonoring its chastity. So, he made the decision that any decent bear would and offered the pie his hand in marriage. In two short months, they wed, BooBoo officiating their holy matrimony. Their wedding night was terribly awkward as the pie had nothing to say to Yogi. Their marriage was a sordid one, with no love between them. Yogi settled into the routine of a lonely house-bear, making the pie meals, which it left to cool, and having it's tin ready every morning for work. 

But of course, even this peace couldn’t last. The cherry pie went as all pies do… a giant bird plucked it out of the window and fed it to its chicks, leaving Yogi a widow. BooBoo tried to console him, but the months of routine had driven too deep into Yogi. They’d only been married for 5 months, but it still stung to lose another once-lover. However, Yogi refused to stop living and did his best to leave the house a little more over the next year and five months.

One day, Yogi suddenly received a large parcel in the mail. Curiously, he opened it. He had to take it to BooBoo because he couldn’t read, but it was an invitation from Tormund to his estate beyond the wall. He knew he should just throw it away and forget about it, but the time they’d had together, that short 4 minutes, had been one of the brightest points in his life. So, he packed up his things and bid BooBoo farewell. BooBoo wasn’t thrilled by the idea of him leaving but Yogi wouldn’t be stopped. Their separating conversation went a little like this, “BooBoo, you've tried to stop my brilliant ideas with common sense a thousand times. Has it ever worked?”

“No.”

“Then... here I go-go-go!”

It took him about a week to find the right interdimensional portal, but at long last, he made it to Westeros. He drove through the icy north in his 1995 Jeep Grand Cherokee, determined to reunite with his long-lost lover. Before long, he’d arrived at the massive gates that blocked the drive to Tormund’s mansion.

The husband to bears was waiting for him and opened the gate to let him inside. Tormund was even gentlemanly enough to carry in his luggage. He showed Yogi to his room, then invited the bear to join him in the parlor. Yogi sauntered after him eagerly, mouth already watering from the sight of Tormund’s massive, furless muscles. They sat across from each other, the fireplace in the corner warming and illuminating the room. Tormund stared back at him, his eyes half-lidded. “So, Yogi… it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“2 years,” Yogi replied as a servant brought them tea. She was dressed in heavy furs, some probably from his brethren. It sent a shiver down his spine- but not necessarily an unpleasant one. It was a great show of power- the only thing Tormund could have done to draw him in more was if he’d left him a deer carcass. If even his servants had bear pelts, well… that was a lot of bears he’d defeated. “Cherry pie and I even got hitched.” He leaned back into his thickly-padded seat, sipping his drink. Maybe that jab would make the man understand that he’d truly abandoned Yogi.

“I heard about that. How well did that thing treat you?” Yogi lifted his nose in response, unwilling to dignify that with words. Tormund sat back, legs spread, looking totally relaxed and in control. “I thought so. Since our… blissful encounter two years ago, I’ve become the hand of the king- the king in the North. It’s a rather presti’jus thing around here. I’ve used that power to pull a few strings around here… especially with the birds, if you catch my meaning.”

Yogi’s jaw dropped. Had it been him that had arranged the death of Cherry Pie that year and five months ago? “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Tormund.”

“Oh,” Tormund dropped the high-class act and leaned in seriously. “I had your spouse killed for convenience… and to save you from a loveless marriage.”

Yogi swooned, not expecting such a direct answer to the question he hadn’t really asked. “You did that… for me?”

“Course I did. I could use a big ole bear like yourself around here. Small bears don’t satisfy a man like me.” He grunted and leaned away, “And I’ve tried, just to get my mind off you- Winnie, Paddington bear, Sonic the hog-bear, Norm of the north. Sure, my bare necessities were met, but I couldn’t give them rough loving as I did you, darling.” 

Yogi nearly moaned, but he held back. “You’re going to need more than sweet-talking to earn this fine bear back.” He paused, considering. “Maybe… a pick-en-ic basket?”

“Oh, I’ll do you one better than that.” Tormund took him by the hand and lead him upstairs, down a side hall, and into a large room. It had silk hanging from every wall, with tables upon tables covered in baskets. There was a round table in the middle of the room, the largest of them all, with a lopsided red bow on top of it. “I got all this ready for you.”

Yogi jumped at the chance, untying the bow faster than he thought himself capable of. Inside… were fuzzy pink handcuffs, a butt plug with a fluffy, brown tail attached, and a huge jar of cherry-flavored lube. Underneath it all was a sheaf of papers and a box of crayons. “This and more can all be yours Yogi, if you just sign the contract that I’ve written.” He pulled the stack of papers free and handed them to Yogi.

“Tormund… I can’t read.”

Tormund smiled. “I’ll tell ya what it says here.” He showed him the papers. There were colorful scribbles across it. It didn’t quite look like the letters he recognized, but perhaps Westeros had a different alphabet. “You’ll be my submissive and do all of the BDSM things I want.”

“BDSM? What is that?”

“I’m glad you asked. It stands for bears, domination, sadism, and masochism. You can see why it fits my interests.” He handed Yogi a bright blue crayon. “Will you sign it for me?”

Yogi snatched the crayon from his fingers and put a big blue ‘x’ on the papers, signing them as much as he knew how. Tormund grinned from ear to ear and thrust his hips into his buttocks, grinding Yogi up against the table. “Are you ready for me baby?”  
Yogi whined out a high moan, rubbing his cheeks back against the hard rod behind him. Tormund fastened the cuffs around his wrists, restraining him, then picked up the lube. He poured out a fat dollop and began rubbing it into Yogi’s crack, warming him up for more, when the door flung open. There was a massive blonde woman, “Tormund, we need to talk…” she stopped speaking abruptly as she stepped into the room. A disgusted sneer worked its way onto her face. “You’re repulsive. This is the worst thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

She turned to storm off and Tormund flung himself after her. “Wait, Brienne, it’s not what it looks like!” Yogi, half laid on the table, hands cuffed with lube cooling on his ass, felt once more abandoned by the wilding. Some husband to bears he was!


End file.
